Summer
by Wind Maester
Summary: Seifer... He was young and arrogant... and maybe just too playful.
1. The Fight

**Summer**

**Chapter 1: The fight**

**-**

Summer. The never-ending warm season of the year, agreed by all Balamb Garden students strolling out to the Quad, stealing a break between classes. At least the tree shades were cooling.

There was construction going on for a new stage, hinting that the annual graduation ball was approaching, and once again students would wear the smart SeeD uniform everyone in the garden was training for. The proof of one's utmost capabilities and endurance, Cid had especially emphasised that, in one way or another. SeeD Mercenary Force. It had a special ring to the name.

Amidst the crowds gathering at the Quad, a lone blond boy about fourteen of age was shoving one of his hands in his pocket, the other carrying a shining gunblade, and walking to a remote corner of the area. He stopped at a shady tree, and placed his blade on the soft grass beside the trunk. Leaning on the woody bark, he watched his seniors flaunting their newly acquired SeeD uniforms and frowned slightly, muttering to himself.

"Tch, I wished I were older already. I bet I could beat all those monsters out there better than those wimpy seniors."The fourteen-year-old boy cursed, and swung his leg against the old tree. He winced inwardly at the numbing pain on his toe, but refused to admit his weakness. Not in front of everyone at the Quad. He had a reputation to live up to, a notorious one, he mused.

Sitting down, his golden hair was shining as brightly as his newly acquired polished Hyperion gunblade under the hot sun. A little while ago, he had stop smoothing the ceases on his shirt, but not that he was used to doing that. He just didn't care anymore. Nobody cared about him in this garden anyway; to everyone he was just an attention deficient kid that wanted an audience every time he felt like it. No one had really like him, and they made sure he knew it. That wasn't a problem, for he knew just how to get under their skins and dig at it, just to let them know the mischievous one was still alive. It was a vicious cycle, beginning from his unpopularity, rising to his infamous misdemeanours to the further hatred he caused amongst his garden mates. He hated it, but it was a mask he had created, and had to live with.

By now, most of the students had left the Quad for lessons, leaving him alone. Sensing no one around, he rubbed his sore toe.

"Ouch!! Even the stupid old tree is against me." The pain was diminishing, but nevertheless, the tinge of discomfort was still there. Strands of grass had settled on top of his gunblade, and he lightly blew it off, using his unkempt shirttails to wipe of dirt. Raising the blade up, he saw the reflection of himself.

"Oh man, I am itching for a fight." He muttered under his breath, knowing exactly who to look for. His rival. Squall Leonhart.

----------

The incessant banging on the door roused him from the sleep he thought he could earn from the whole night's study on his text, "Safety during Junctioning". Purely annoyed, he draped on his jacket, and sat up on his bed, trying to focus on the door, mentally willing the person to go away. Constant knocking. Damn. He struggled to his feet, his left hand unconsciously running through his raven hair, and other reaching out for the doorknob.

Seifer was half about to give up, as he leaned against the wooden structure. He raised his hand to pound one last half-hearted knock on the unrelenting brown door, when it swung open and caught him off guard, toppling all over Squall, who registered an expression that none other would have seen. Disgust and irritation, one that was a change from his usual stoic face.

"What in the name of Hyne are you doing here, Almasy?" Squall picked himself up from the tangle they were in, hiding his relief to know that no one saw their predicaments. He jabbed his hand on his waist, and stared at his rival, discerning that this 'chat' would very well end up in a fight. His plans for catching a few winks just flew out of the window.

"I thought you'd never ask, Leonie boy," he teased and waited for his reaction. None. He was slightly disappointed, but he didn't want to show it to Squall.

"Well," he raised his voice so that the corridor would hear, "Leonie boy, you are always that confident about yourself, huh? Never seem perturbed by anything. Well, I wanna perturb you. You game, or do you just wanna wimp out?" Seifer sneered and raised his Hyperion in challenge, smirking.

_He sure knows how to attract a crowd_, Squall thought, watching the common corridor outside his dorm fill up with curious bystanders. Contemplating for a split second, he knew he had nothing to lose, except for that elusive sleep. Without a word, he strode towards his Griever gunblade and picked it out from its leathered casing.

"The quad. Get going."

----------

The two boys, both of them just tasting the first impressions of the teenage years, poised before each other, debating which move they should take. Seifer cared less, and he struck. The clashing of blades rang amidst the cheering from the spectators in the late summer afternoon. Neither of their movements were lightning speed, but they fought like seasoned warriors, each executing their act with grace and mobility. They were on par, but Seifer did not want to believe that, and so he was more ruthless. Squall saw no meaning in harming his enemy, inevitably making him more vulnerable.

Seifer raised his Hyperion against Squall, who swerved his blade under it, just barely dodging from the sharp edge. They could not determine the winner, for both were just as good. They recoiled, panting, but yet wanting to continue the search for the final victor, the final verdict. They lunged at each other.

"What are you guys doing?!" The fourteen-year-old blond hurried down the steps to the Quad, as the students hastily made their appearance scarce, leaving only Seifer, who had put down his blade and was cracking his knuckles, grinning, and Squall, who was ignoring Quistis' calls and looking into Dr. Kadowaki's office.

"What were you doing?! Fighting?" She chastised the two boys. They knew what the punishment was, and they knew it well even before they chose to fight. Punishment was not an option. It was a certainty. Quistis looked at the two scruffy boys, drenched in the summer perspiration. She sighed, not knowing what to do with them. One was the unruly one, the other, well, perhaps the shy and introverted one. The one she cared more. The one that was most probably picked on by that Seifer. Somehow, she couldn't figure out how she had such a sisterly attitude towards Squall, but the fact was she would want to shield him, the strong but vulnerable one. Seifer could take care of himself.

"I assume you're the one who picked the fight, Seifer," she asked consciously, well aware of the answer. The reply was swift and without guilt.

"Yeah." He had his gunblade perched on his shoulders, tapping.

"Would you promise me you wouldn't do that again?"

"Do what? What have we done?" The blond boy retorted, grinning at Squall, who was looking at everywhere else except at Seifer. "We were just fooling around, we're buddies, yeah?" He smirked.

With that, he strolled off, whistling. No one could do anything to him. Not now, not ever.

----------

The sprinkling water felt heaven on his burning skin as he tousled his golden hair with shampoo. The fight was refreshing, and added another score to his endless notoriety. Mission for today was accomplished, having lured half the school down, and Quistis, to watch him. _Attention scored, extra bonus for Quistis_, he thought, smiling to himself.

Water and soap bubbles spattered merrily on the tiled floor, in rhythm to his whistling.

_Wait a minute... What Quistis?_ He mused.

-

A/N: Just something I wrote long before, and edited a little. One-shot for Seifer, and I don't think I would continue with this fic, after all, it's another one of my older fics. No value. Anyhow, reviews are greatly appreciated...


	2. Detention

**Summer**

**Chapter 2: Detention**

-

Punishment came in a form of detention.

Not really surprising to the two boys, though, for they were the ones that had started it. They deserved it. It was just plain luck that they only had detention to serve. Had they wounded each other, punishment would have been tripled. And a hundred times harder.

The summer rays were hitting the windows of the classroom, making shadows of the window grills on the white tiled floor, hinting that the afternoon would be soon over. But not for the two boys as the sun shone upon in the isolated classroom. It was quite heating up the room, but neither cared about the increasingly stuffy room they were in. Rather, both were slightly squirmy with Quistis, their student mentor in the classroom. Seifer stole glances at her half the time, and Squall tried not to notice her feminine presence by bowing down to his keyboard on his station. Quistis tried to stifle her laugh watching the two's boyish manners, her control over her giggles thinning by the moment.

The clock in the classroom chimed, reading four o'clock, and meaning they still had two more hours to grind. The boys were not speaking to each other, as they sat at their tables, facing the screens in front of them. They were supposed to finish up the chapter of "Important Facts of Junctioning" before dismissal, and Seifer was itching to get out of the stupid classroom. No weapons were allowed in the classroom, and that worsened Seifer's temper. No freedom. No Hyperion. He was bursting from the eerie silence, and the thought that he had to do homework to get out. He looked at Squall.

"Hey, Leonie, what's up with that studious look?" His hands rested on the monitor in front of Squall, and his voice broke the monotonous stillness. Squall registered nothing, self-absorbed into his work. Stupid stoic face he had, Seifer mocked, but grudgingly he had felt a sense of admiration for the indifference his rival displayed. For one, he would have never let that person get away with it, let alone being able to totally ignore another's attack on him.

Quistis glanced up at him from her table in front, and raised her brows at the blond boy. He surrendered and backed off from Squall, his thoughts of teasing the little boy made naught by the one look from his two-month-older mentor. He muttered beneath his breath, his ego deflated by the restrain she put on him just because she was only a little older than him.

His restlessness made the blond impatiently paced about at his table, thinking of a way to escape from hell. Trickles of perspiration traced the fourteen-year-old's face, and he frowned in thought. He had never succumbed to punishment, or detention. Why had he now?

Had he grown older? No, he was just five months older than he was on his birthday. Turning fifteen would be another long wait until December. He could not have been more tolerant. Or less problematic. But why had he chosen to stay here when he could have left a long time ago? Fuujin and Raijin were waiting for him, with plans to head for Balamb Town for dinner, before visiting the local junk shop to check on their weapons. But he chose to stay back.

_I must be getting mad_, he furiously thought, _passing up such a fabulous time with my posse to be trapped in this hellhole. Why had I been just nonchalant when Quistis gave me punishment? Why hadn't I fought back? Or at least pushed it off?_

Seifer was just confirming that he had gotten some kind of virus from that well-behaved Squall, when he heard the loud bang of the classroom door. Quistis jumped a little, her focus distracted by the little stunt Seifer had just played on Squall, and by the sudden noise at the entrance. Squall act as if nothing had happened.

"SEIFER!!" Fuujin's voice rang like a siren.

"Hey, buddy, ya thought we'd never get ya out? Came ta rescue ya, ya know?" The door swung open, and the two buddies faced Quistis, glancing at Seifer, who looked relieved yet... somehow embarrassed, and... reluctant to go.

His student mentor was unrelenting. "Seifer can't go with you, he's got detention," Quistis' voice was stern with authority. "Please leave. Come back for him at six."

"SEIFER? DETENTION? NEVER." Fuujin was unconvinced, having known Seifer for so long, she knew he would never bow down to authority for detention. Punishment? Quistis must be out of her mind!

Raijin voiced out Fuujin's thoughts. "Ya got detention? Ya must have been mad, buddy. Gwahahaha... Ouch! That hurts..." Raijin's laughter was smothered by Fuujin's kick in his shin.

"Say whatever you want. Seifer stays, he has detention to serve. Leave."

"NEVER."

Tension mounted between Fuujin and Quistis, neither wanting to step back. Something had to be done amidst the awkward silence.

It was Seifer who finally spoke. "Hey you two, get off my back, you guys. Can't see I am not free? Come back later if you want, but don't disturb me now, you hear?"

Suddenly the room was silent again, this time everyone was stunned.

Squall, who had been delightfully ignoring the scene the posse made, glanced up to see what had made Seifer say something totally out of his character.

Fuujin was silent. Raijin had a puzzled expression on his face, not knowing what to do next and watched Fuujin, who remain still. He stood still too.

Quistis let her shocked expression linger on her face, her jaw dropping, before politely sealing her lips.

"Yeah, you heard me right, now get out before I kick your asses." Seifer was mumbling, his heart pounding, and his mind telling him off for letting such an opportunity escape. His posse was in a daze to walk out, so he pushed them out of the room, and slammed close the door. Facing Quistis.

"Don't ask me why I did that." He shrugged as he passed Quistis and returned to his seat, with the answer to that question also eluding him.

Had no one been guarding him, Seifer would have pounced on the chance of freedom. He knew it for sure. Had it been someone else giving him detention, he would not even have bothered at all. Had it not been Quistis, he would not have stayed. Quistis, or was it really that he just wanted to be compliant to authority lately?

He could not decide, nor did he know what he'd just experienced.

It was easier to just read "Important Facts of Junctioning".

-

A/N: Ok, I added a bit of things not in game, like student mentoring and things like that. Thought that Quistis needed the sense of authority she had in the game, but she wasn't an instructor until she was seventeen, so the idea of mentoring was more appropriate.


	3. Sneaking

**Summer**

**Chapter 3: Sneaking**

-

Seifer lay on his bed in his dorm, exhausted from being so obedient back at the detention room. And he counted the goodies that he missed out when he chose to stay back. The trip to Balamb town with his posse, the new extension for Hyperion, now rested in the back leather gunblade case. Not to mention the food that they would get to eat. Man, he missed the fish fillet over at the seaside restaurant. And he was saving his allowance for it. Whatever did he do to bust this trip to town, he sure regretted his actions now.

The rhythmic whirling of the ceiling fan on top of him was getting increasingly irritating, and he tossed and turned on the bed, willing himself to stop feeling so down and short-changed. Fists clamped themselves on the edge of the bed so to stop him from being edgy, but it obviously wasn't working. Sitting up, he faced the leather case that set itself upright against the wall, a glint of the metal chain peeking out to lure him to finger out the gunblade. His hands start to itch, and he grabbed the hilt of the blade, brandishing the sword to make it glimmer in the dusk.

"Now I'll have to take it out. Can't help it." He heaved it onto his shoulders, carelessly tapping the blunt edge of the blade on his trench coat, and got out of the room. This time, not with that Leonie boy, not after he had that pesky detention he got out of picking a fight with him. He strolled down the dormitory halls, out into the circular corridor that spanned the entire Garden.

"Right or left?" Right would lead him to the front gates, and he can train there, even though rules strictly said that no training to be done outside Garden after six, but he was leader of the future Garden Disciplinary Committee after all. Rules? What can they do to him? Left would take him to the Training Centre. Mundane landscape, puny monsters, limited spells to draw, and it would take him ages to level up. He had to make a choice between the boring centre, or the open land space.

He moved an inch towards the right, but stopped short. In the case of being caught by the current Disciplinary Committee outside of Garden after six and not adhering strictly to the rules, he would hence be sent to Quistis, his mentor for punishment. And what else but another round of detention? A cold chill suddenly ran down his spine, and he tried to shrug the feeling off, tried to act nonchalant. What, him of all people to be afraid of Quistis and her stupid way of punishment? He had to be kidding himself. Bravely, he took another step down the right corridor, but gave up. No way was he going to be barbequed by Quistis in that stinky hot classroom for the whole afternoon again. This time it'll probably be worse. Squall wouldn't be there for entertainment purposes.

He scooted down the left common hallway, feeling like a dog that had his tail between his legs.

----------

Boy, it was surprisingly quiet for the Training Centre. He pushed open the flapping doors, eyeing for some Grats to kill, and maybe pinch a little of their sleeping powder for tricks on the boys. Stepping in slowly, he spotted a waving feeler behind a bush, and jumped on it. The beast leapt away in defence, then immediately released a stream of sleeping gas at his direction, which he dodged just in time. Bracing another charge at the creature, he sprang from a rock and aimed his Hyperion at its heart, killing it right on the spot.

"Nice kill. Now time for some war spoils." Picking up one of the feelers, he dusted it for the powder, careful not to inhale any, and pocketed the white stuff into his trench coat. Pinched his nose just in case he breathed in the sleeping powder that still lingered in the air. "Belch, I think I'm gonna get out for fresh air." Holding his breath was tough, and he strode out of the Centre, removing his hand away from his nose so people wouldn't see. Adjusting his trench coat, he tilted his head, and tapped his gunblade on his shoulder blade again, the look of smugness back again.

Then, as if to spoil the look, his stomach growled loudly, but not loud enough to let the nearest person hear. Still, his notoriety demanded that he appeared his best all the time, and not someone that would sound starved. Ego had him sauntered towards the canteen, but he would have preferred that he walked at least more quickly.

"Man, I'm gonna kill for a hotdog." He clutched his empty stomach, wishing himself to behave more Seifer-like, instead of the chicken-wuss Zell. He approached the canteen, all dim and deserted, and cursed. They just had to wrap up the place early. Kicking the counter, he slapped Hyperion on the countertop, drumming his fingers against the smooth marble layer. Now he was hungry, and there was no stopping the almighty Seifer once he was hungry.

Eyeing the kitchen door that was ajar, he twitched his lips, an eyebrow raised. This was just a perfect setting. Empty canteen, no one around to spoil the fun, and loads of food back in the kitchen. He wondered if he was ever this lucky. Leaving his gunblade on the counter, he strode into the dank area, adjusting himself to the dim lighting so he wouldn't crash himself into some trolley or crockery. There was only one thing in the kitchen to focus on. The source of food, the hidden treasure closet of food. His stomach did a rumba.

"Great." Rubbing his hands, he closed his palms over the refrigerator handle bar, and pulled. A huge burst of cold air greeted him, before the sight of tons of food overwhelmed him. Plates of cold, frozen lasagne, oodles and oodles of hot dogs (he wondered how with so much supplies, hotdogs can still sell out) and fruits. Reaching a hand into the storage, he plucked an apple out from the fruit bowl, wiping it on his shirt before chomping down on it. Ah, fresh and cold from the refrigerator. Drumming his fingers on the fridge door, he looked in to check for more, but heard the sound of squeaky sneakers coming from outside. That sound was so familiar. _Shit, why on earth am I so downright unlucky?_ He slammed close the door, back against the side of the fridge and hid his apple in his trench coat pocket.

"Hands up, intruder!" The figure shouted in the dark, and pointed a whip at him. "No use resisting. I'll have the rest of the Garden right behind you."

"Uh, Quistis?" He pushed himself off the fridge to stand in front of his student mentor, and grinned.

"Seifer?!" She couldn't believe her eyes, and blinked twice before recovering to her usual demeanour. In stern tones, she addressed her fellow classmate. "What are you doing here?" She crossed her arms and looked at him. It was obvious he was sneaking in to get something to chew on.

"Me? Nothing. Thought I saw someone come in, so I thought I would check it out. Turned out to be a rat though." He stuck his hands in his pockets, fingering the smooth apple he nipped, and raised his eyebrows at her. "What are you doing here anyway, Quistis? Looking for food?"

"I am on my patrol duty, Seifer. Looking for the same intruder you saw." _And it's you, damn it._ She stuck her whip back into her waist, and turned away to walk off. "You better not be caught."

"Sure, sure." He leant against the table counter, and took out the apple again. Teeth sank on it before he realised the powdery substance that coated the apple. _Hot damn, the sleeping powder in my pocket!_ He spat out the remnants of the remaining apple that was still in his mouth, but it was too late. It was already whiffed through his nose. His five senses start to fail him, and he was getting increasingly drowsy. Perching himself on the counter, he muttered in a soft voice.

"Uh, Quistis... I'm falling asleep. Help..." Eyelids started to droop, and visions became blurred. He heard the muffled sound of the squeaky sneakers again, and from the corner of his eyes saw a figure running back to him.

"Seifer!" The female voice called out just a few steps away from him. Then he blacked out and collapsed onto the linoleum floor, the apple rolling away from his palm.

-

OOC: Funny chapter, never thought I would have written such a story, but here it is. My first attempt at parody.


End file.
